The Cyborg Life
by Magic-Amethyst80
Summary: Takes place after Right Turn Left for Dead. When a medical problem from Shawn's past becomes an issue in the present everyone must adjust to a new normal. Whump, and possible Shules. Please read and review, it means a lot.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: I thank my beta, Redwolffclaw for all of her help.**

**Disclaimer: The Characters from Psych are property of NBC/Universal, I do not own any of them.**

Two days had passed since all had happened, the wedding and Jules figuring out he wasn't actually psychic. He still felt like shit, perhaps worse. Overwhelming exhaustion was the only way it could be described. Perhaps it was a symptom of depression? Maybe it was because he was still hung over? Would being unhappy account for being completely wiped out by something as simple as sweeping the floor? Would it account for feeling like the act of walking from the Blueberry to the Psych office had been a marathon?

Could this have been the result the minor concussion after the cab he was in stopped short? Having almost been stabbed by the Swedish Nanny? Having almost been hit by a truck while investing what happened to her? Was he actually hit by a truck? Perhaps he was getting Chief Vick's cold? Did she have a cold, or had that been part of one of the strange dreams he had been having?

It was getting hard to tell what had actually happened, and what he simply thought up in his post concussive mind. Everything was a blur. Thinking about it, he had spent most of the past few days and nights sleeping on couches, the one in the Psych office that he was laying down on right now, and the one at Gus's. Everything was a strange fog.

He had even been feeling yucky the day of Lassie's wedding, at the Agua Verde Hotel and Casino. While Lassie was catching Herb Pollack, and Gus was trying to contact Rachel, he found himself nodding off on a slot machine.

Was it better to have everything in a weird fog than to face it? There was just too much on his plate right now between his break up with Jules, moving out of her house, and worrying that she might tell people his secret about not really being psychic.

He changed his position on the couch, and inhaled, but had a strange sensation that he wasn't getting enough air, no matter how deeply he attempted to breathe. He closed his eyes and laid back on the couch. The radio which was tuned to the local top 40 station, was playing that annoying Jason Mraz song about kids with cancer, or was it heart disease?

_Well then something on the surface it stings. Something on the surface, well it kind of makes me nervous._

He adjusted the big pillow and hugged it tightly to his sternum, the sensitive area that prevented him from buying t-shirts with v-necks. Whenever people asked about it, he would simply come up with an excuse, when he was seven a cat scratched him, he tried to imitate a sword swallower and failed, or that Freddie Kruger almost got him. It was from when he was seven; at least that part was true. Excuses were bad; telling lies was bad. Look what it did for his relationship.

_I won't worry my life away, I won't worry my life away._

He worried if Julies would ever take him back. He couldn't remember if she seemed to care when he was almost stabbed, again. Was she gone for good? Would she ever forgive him? His phone rang; he hoped it was her but when he saw it was his father, he simply pressed ignore on the screen. He was just too tired and worn out to carry on a conversation with anyone right now, especially his father. It didn't help that his father would probably just bother him for telling Jules he wasn't psychic.

_The tragedy is that you are going to spend the rest of your nights with the lights on_

He continued hugging the pillow tightly to his chest as he coughed. From when he was young he was told when coughing or sneezing, keep the pillow there, and keep it tightly there, just in case. Bracing was important for that area. After all these years he still feared that if he coughed or sneezed without holding a pillow to his chest his sternum would break causing his heart and lungs to pop out. From what he could remember, it was known as dehiscence, the re-opening of a surgical scar after surgery. The closed area opens, and out comes blood and internal organs Having that happen would be nasty, gross, and probably kind of cool.

_It all amounts to nothing in the end, I won't worry my life away..._

Gus turn that off," he hollered, which took most of the energy he had at the moment.

"You look like something off The Walking Dead," Gus replied, "and you have been on that couch all day. Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, if it is a concussion it is minor." Truth be told, right now he simply couldn't afford to get sick. Having his appendix out set his dad back too much, even though the blow wouldn't as bad now that Gus insisted on him buying a medical insurance policy. But at the moment there was too much to lose with Jules knowing his secret on top of everything else. None of this could have been helping with his dad who was still recovering from being shot.

Thinking back to having his appendix out, maybe things would have been cheaper if his dad had not insisted on his being on the telemetry unit. Pain medication probably cost less than having the octopus suckers and things all over him. And he didn't need any of that, he was fine. There were no issues, nothing to worry about. Whatever happened, happened almost thirty years ago, ancient history. E.T had phoned home. Elliott had probably long since forgotten about ET and that whole ordeal. Had he? The connection the two of them had when ET had gotten sick, making Elliott sick as well. Poor ET, died, turned white, and had to be stuffed into a box resembling a refrigerator waiting to be dissected. Elliott survived.

* * *

_1984  
_  
_"Congratulations, Shawn, you've graduated the ICU, and now you get to be on the pediatric cardiology unit," said the nurse as she wheeled him into the room. "And this is your new roommate, Danny," she said glancing at a brown haired boy on the other bed next to him. "Don't be afraid of Danny, he doesn't talk much, but he just had his heart operated on just like you." The boy had blond hair and pleasant a smile on his face, as he watched the TV above which was showing Masters of the Universe. Shawn commented "I just got castle Grayskull for Christmas."_

_"I am Skeletor," said the boy, who was supposed to be quiet, his voice sounded scary, but he was talking into something. _

_"Snake Mountain, cool," responded Shawn, this kid had the best toy ever, Masters of the Universe Snake Mountain. Not only was it a mountain, but it was a mountain that you could make talk in a scary voice. This wasn't going to be so bad. _

_Danny's eyes seemed to roll back into his head, and he suddenly got quiet. _

_"Danny, Danny, wake up," Shawn screamed as the machine his roommate was hooked up to went from a series of steady beeps, to one long beep. A nurse walked in, and shouted "he is arresting," From the nurse's station in the hallway, he heard a loudspeaker saying Code Blue room 221, as a bunch of nurses, doctors, and other people came in. Even though they closed a curtain around Danny's bed, he could still hear all that was going on. _

_"Danny," Shawn continued to scream, his own beeping machine getting faster, "charging to 350, clear," he heard the doctor say, "still no response."_

_A nurse came out from the curtain, "we should get this one out of here, or do something. His pulse rate has gone up to 132 and his pressure is 120/80." He suddenly felt calmer as he saw the nurse playing with his IV. He could hear from behind the curtain, "time of death, 4:45 PM." A few minutes later they closed the curtain around his own bed. He closed his eyes and pretended to sleep as he heard them rolling his friend out of the room. He could see from an area where the curtain wasn't completely closed that a blanket was over Danny's head. No more monitors were connected to him. Soon, his father would be telling him some story about how Danny was discharged, but he knew that wasn't true._

* * *

"Time to get up," insisted Gus. "We should go by Juliet's place and pick up your stuff, she will be back in a few hours, so we have time now."

"Just a few more minutes," responded Shawn.

Gus handed him his sneakers, "don't procrastinate and put these on."

Shawn took the sneakers, but something strange happened, for some reason they didn't fit. His feet were too swollen to get them on.

"What the fuck," gasped Gus his tone a lot more serious. His face conveyed a look of fear and concern, "do you know what swollen ankles means? When you spent the night watching that woman in the hospital did they really check you out?"

Shawn put his hand out to stop him, "Gus, don't be Skittles CGI'ed where there should be Reeses Pieces, its nothing. If I go to the hospital they will just run a bunch of useless tests, which will worry my dad. He has enough on his plate after being shot, I'm fine." He tried to get up, "just need a minute to catch my breath," he said before he collapsed to the floor unconscious.


	2. Chapter 2

_No, this wasn't happening,_ Gus thought to himself as he grabbed his phone out of his pocket, his hands shaking as he dialed 911. He was frozen, paralyzed with fear. He knew that he should probably be down there checking Shawn's pulse, and if there wasn't one remembering his CPR skills, but all he could do was stand there and worry. Why did calls to 911 need to ring? Simply trying to get through felt like forever.

Shawn began to come to, slowly opening his eyes. "You don't have to, I just got up too fast, I'm fine," his voice soft and weak.

Gus ignored him letting out a sigh of relief as his call was finally answered. "My friend just collapsed. He is thirty six years old, and he hasn't been feeling well for the past few days. Might be due to him hitting his head in a car accident two days ago. He also has a history of heart problems, and right now he has edema in his feet and ankles."

With those words he could see an exhausted glance of betrayal coming from Shawn. He knew he was never supposed to speak about it but in a situation like this? What would he tell Henry if he didn't do anything and something happened to Shawn? He never even spoke of the surgery in the first grade.

In all the years they had known each other, the one thing Shawn never said a word about was the scar on his chest. He never went anywhere without a shirt, even when he went swimming, he always wore a shirt or a wetsuit no questions asked. Heck, there was one time, when he walked in on him with Abby, the shirt was still on. It was something he was starting to worry about more and more especially now that they both were no longer in their late twenties. For years they had both had the same unhealthy diet. As recently as five years ago, they both were able to keep up athletically. But over the past few years, he had to admit that Shawn just didn't keep up, at first getting winded a little bit quicker. Nowadays he was probably at a point where Henry could outrun him in a race. But neither Shawn nor Henry seemed to want to admit that.

Numerous times, Gus had considered saying something to Henry about Shawn's decreasing ability to exercise, but never found a good time to do so. After an incident on the elliptical machine a few years ago, when Shawn passed out after thinking a bomb was attached to it if his heart rate went below a certain rate, he made it clear not to breathe a word to his father about what had happened. He told Juliet that that he didn't want his father to know how out of shape he had become, but Gus suspected there was a lot more to it. He and Shawn both worried about how Henry might react if he saw the note Juliet had written as a joke.

Gus glanced down at Shawn, who was still lying on the floor his eyes now closed. "It'll be okay, the ambulance will be here soon," he said his voice doing its best not to convey his nervousness.

"I'm fine," Shawn tried again to plead.

* * *

_1984_

_It was the first day back from President's week. The bulletin board of Mrs. Robinson's first grade classroom was still decorated with each student's handwritten biography of either Abraham Lincoln or George Washington. The other side was for the upcoming presidential election that had a poster of President Reagan, and one with all the Democratic candidates, including Walter Mondale, and Jessie Jackson. As they sat at their desks, which were arranged into neat little clusters of four or six, he noticed that Shawn's desk, which was across from his was empty. The teacher took attendance, then everyone gathered on the green carpet at the front of the classroom. _

_The science teacher, Mrs. Sabenski walked in and turned on the projector. She then took out up slide with a giant a drawing of a human heart. "I usually show this to the fifth graders, but because of your classmate, you are getting this lesson now. Don't worry their won't be homework." The class nodded as she proceeded to explain how the human heart worked. Blood without oxygen went into the right atrium, then into the right ventricle, from the right ventricle the pulmonary valve pumped it out to the lungs. After going into the lungs and getting oxygen, it went back into the left atrium, into the left ventricle, then out to the body._

_She then paused, "But, sometimes children are born, and their hearts aren't like other people's. They have holes between ventricles, or valves which aren't formed correctly. Shawn is one of those children, when he was born, there was a hole between his left and right ventricle, along with a number of other problems. His family has taken him to the children's hospital in Los Angeles, to have one of the problems fixed. "_

_When the science teacher finished, Ms. Robinson explained that he probably wasn't going to be in class for a long time. One girl, Lauren asked, "Is Shawn going to die?" Ms. Robinson didn't answer her question, she just told Lauren to sit in the hall because she had spoken without raising her hand. She told everyone else to go back to their seats, and that they were to be silent for the next half hour until lunch. Construction paper, crayons, little bottles of Elmer's glue, and glitter were passed out and the class was told to start writing get well cards for Shawn._

* * *

_When Gus hopped off the bus at the end of the day, the first thing he did was ask his mother the question he wasn't allowed to ask Mrs. Robinson, "Is Shawn going to die?"_

_"No, that is silly," his mother, Winnie answered. "What did your teacher say?"_

_"That Shawn's heart wasn't made right, and that he is in the hospital in LA. When a girl asked if he was going to die, Ms. Robinson made her sit in the hall while we wrote him get well cards."_

_"He probably isn't going to die," his mother responded dismissively, "the surgery was during the school break, and from what I have heard, he is doing well and he is recovering." He could tell his mother's tone that she wasn't telling the truth. It was the same tone she used when she spoke about Santa and the Tooth Fairy . His mother continued, "when you are saying your prayers before bed tonight, ask God to make sure that Shawn will be okay." She took him into her arms and gave him a hug._

_That night when he woke up and sneaked out of bed around 10:00 he overheard his mother angry on the phone. He could tell by her tone that it was probably his grandmother on the other end."She had no business telling that to a class full of six and seven year olds. I would rather her tell them that he is just sick, and can't be in school. What she said was too much for the first grade, why worry them all that their friend could die?"_

* * *

Gus was still anxious, waiting for the ambulance to come seemed to take hours. He finally heard the sound of it coming, then ran to the door to let the paramedics in. Along with the paramedics, he saw Chief Vick arriving in her car. "I came as soon as I heard them dispatching an ambulance to this address," she told Gus, who seemed very agitated.

She had known for all these years that something like this could potentially happen to Shawn, but usually he was so energetic she didn't think about it. However, during Lassiter's wedding he seemed worn out, and wasn't quite acting like his usual ebullient self. He did some dancing, but he sat down most of the time watching the action from the sidelines. She knew he and O'Hara were having some relationship issues, but seeing him so tired to the point where he seemed to scream out when she touched him was frightening. It brought back memories of the days when people would talk about Henry Spencer's poor kid who had a heart condition.

When she was a teenager, before she joined the force she had been at the car washes and pancake breakfasts the department held to help Henry and Madeline with the bills that had piled up after Shawn's heart operation. Local papers couldn't get enough of the adorable little boy who had endured so much. But eventually as the years went on, it was something which was never spoken about. Whenever Henry had brought him to work, there was never any mention of him being sick and everyone seemed to love Shawn. There was nothing his son couldn't do, and he was so proud of his boy. The only time she heard anything about the subject was a few years after the operation when Henry and Max DeBuono got into a fight during a Police Activity League baseball game. It was a hot day, and Max DeBuono, a paramedic who coached little league, didn't want Shawn playing in a game . Henry made a stink about how his kid was fine now, and had no problem, and it was wrong to leave him out. Max didn't want their to be a rivalry between EMS and the SBPD, so he let Shawn play.

When Shawn walked into her office years later, he never said anything about his ever having had surgery done. She had always wondered if that was part of the reason why he never became a police officer like his father. There were times she worried about something happening to him on a crime scene on days when it was too hot, but was afraid to say anything. Nothing about it was ever mentioned, when he was shot and kidnapped, poisoned, or when his appendix had to be operated on.

Gus and Chief Vick as the paramedics worked on Shawn. An oxygen mask was now on his face, and shirt was unbuttoned, so that the leads for a cardiac monitor could be attached. Everything that was being done made scar on his chest stand out more.

"His O2 is at 88 percent, and pulse is 30 BPM. Give him .5 milligrams of Atropine. and have the AED ready in case he doesn't respond," said one of the paramedics as they rolled him out and loaded him into an ambulance.

* * *

Shawn never felt so naked as he did with his shirt was unbuttoned and everyone staring at him. Usually, considering his line of work he didn't mind being the center of attention, but with his shirt opened and nothing underneath, people didn't see Shawn Spencer, psychic detective. They didn't see Shawn Spencer, part of the a Capella group Quarter Black. All the saw was Shawn Spencer, the sick kid who might die, the kid who people were afraid to invite over their homes out of fear that he would pass out.

When he wore a button down top without an undershirt because it was a hot day, he still felt self-conscious when people would stare it and he would occasionally get comments like "That is some scar. Are you a member of the zipper club?" Coming up with answers to that one was always kind of difficult, and usually his shirt was buttoned up shortly afterwards.

He still felt too tired as he was wheeled into the ambulance, despite the oxygen mask and whatever they were giving him in his IV. "Mr. Spencer, your heart is going just a bit slower than it should be. The drug we gave you before you isn't helping as much as we thought it would. We are going to do something called external cardiac pacing, it is kind of like a pacemaker, but it will be on the outside of your body. It will be a bit uncomfortable, but we will give you something to help with the pain. He nodded in and watched as she fiddled with a machine, which looked like a defibrillator. He felt them placing some type of cold sticky thing on his right shoulder, and then the lower left side of the top of his stomach. Whatever they were giving him for began to take effect, and things became fuzzier as he felt some type of jolts. He was reminded of countless films which took place in old mental institutions, shock treatments. If he weren't so tired, he would have been laughing.

* * *

Gus didn't know what to think as he sat in the passenger seat of Chief Vick's car. He felt guilty that he wasn't riding along with Shawn, but he hated hospitals, he hated ambulances, and he hated blood. Things were safer in her car.

"Do you want to call Henry, or should I?" Karen asked.

"I'll do it," he replied as picked up his phone, and nervously dialed.


	3. Chapter 3

Henry paced back and forth in his living room. He was tired because last night Juliet's stepfather, Lloyd had dragged him out to Luau night at Tiki themed Chinese restaurant to celebrate some museum getting a Polynesian display. The entire night he had to pretend Shawn and Juliet were still together after being offered mai tai after mai tai. 

Shawn had certainly fucked up big this time. Why did he have to actually _tell_ O'Hara the truth? Did he have to spell out that he had been lying? Couldn't he have just made up another excuse? The kid was always good with making up with things on the fly, wasn't there some way that he could have spun it? And how could he have been so off his game that he gave the jacket with a piece of evidence in it to her? Usually Shawn was so detail oriented and focused that he would never accidentally give a piece of something like that up.

He picked up his phone to dial his son, but once again his call went straight to voicemail. He hated when Shawn did that. As he heard the beep he said, "Shawn, turn on your damn phone," before hanging up.

Were they going to prosecute? Was Shawn now going to spill everything to the chief and Lassiter? Would he now get into trouble? He hated the thought of the trouble he would get into over Shawn. There were worse things that the department had to deal with, things like corrupt cops, and corrupt former cops who went around shooting their partners. With all the corruption things like a psychic detective not really being psychic should be low on their priority list. But there was always the chance that someone who Shawn helped convict would sue the department. Shawn's ass and his ass would be the ones taking the fall. How could Shawn have done this when he was still recovering from the gunshot wound? Sure he was feeling fine now, and had recently been on an unscheduled trip to Mexico with Lloyd, but he still was traumatized by it. Could things get any worse? How much more stress could the kid cause him? He was getting way too old from these kinds of antics with Shawn. Retirement was supposed to be the time of your life when everything is stress free, you get to sit back and relax. Shawn was doing everything he could to ruin his retirement. How would Shawn feel when the inevitable day came when he caused his poor father a heart attack?

His phone began to ring has he fumbled for it. He still couldn't get used to using the damn thing, with its annoying ring tone and confusing touch screen. The caller ID said Burton Guster. Why was he calling? Henry picked up, and noticed there was something different in Guster's tone.

"Mr. Spencer, Shawn passed out in the Psych office. I'm with Chief Vick, and we're following the ambulance on way to the Cottage ER."

"Did they say what was wrong with him? What happened this time? Was it that damn death trap?" There was an awkward pause, he wondered what Shawn could have done now to get himself into the hospital once again that would raise his blood pressure. 

Guster responded. "I think it's his heart, his ankles were swollen, and he has just been so tired. They were saying something about giving him atropine. They use that when someone's heartbeat isn't fast enough." 

"Shit," he paused, as he attempted to stay calm. "I'll be right down there." he replied quickly grabbing the keys to his truck He then went to the drawer, and retrieved an old manila envelope with Shawn's medical history. Whenever something happened to his son, as had happened several times in the past few years, he always worried about Shawn's childhood heart problems. Up until now they were never an issue, Shawn was one lucky kid. In the past ten years Shawn had all kinds of medical emergencies from things like falls off his motorcycle, gunshot wounds, concussions after being knocked out, and even a burst appendix. With each one, he managed to come out okay it was miraculous considering what he had been through as a child. 

But something about this just felt different. He somehow knew in the pit of his stomach this was going to be round three. First round happened when his son was a baby, the second when he was seven. For the past thirty or so years, they had been spared. Throughout Shawn's rebellious teens and early twenties everything was fine. At seventeen he was supposed to have another operation, but there were no problems so the doctors decided not to operate. Shawn should have been following up with cardiologists but Shawn being Shawn didn't worry about it.

Thirty years? He thought to himself then realized his son was getting up there in age. Late thirties are when it usually started. You think you're young, but then people your own age start dropping dead from heart attacks.

He couldn't help but remember Brendan Riley, his friend on the force, who he trained with at the academy. He had his first heart attack at thirty eight, not much older than Shawn was now. It was such a shock when it happened, and Brendan didn't have any previous heart issues. Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said for Shawn.

He nervously started the truck, and backed out of the driveway on the now frighteningly familiar route to the emergency room. He always knew that gunshot wounds and police corruption were a cakewalk compared to open heart surgery, and other horrors congenital heart defects had brought into his family's life. A familiar sense of dread was back in the pit of his stomach, he Maddie and Shawn would have to battle this demon once again.

* * *

1_977_

_Henry woke up, it was 2:00 AM and something was just odd. Shawn was sleeping a bit too soundly. For the past few nights the newborn had been crying a lot. It wasn't a loud cry, but it was persistent to the point where neither of them could get any sleep. The weak cry, and the way his son didn't feed quite as voraciously as he would have expected were concerning to him. _

_"Henry, we both need our sleep, I don't need him crying," said Maddie as she turned and closed her eyes. _

_He had been hearing so much about Sudden Infant Death Syndrome, on TV, in papers, and in magazines that it had him paranoid. He picked up his son, who seemed to wake, but something was off. He turned the light on. His eyes widened. "Maddie take him," he said as he rushed to the phone, and immediately dialed the dispatcher for the precinct._

_"It is officer Spencer, get an ambulance here now, something is wrong with my son. His lips, and his fingers are blue, and he is lethargic. "_

* * *

_You just had to be a hippie, and couldn't give birth to him in a normal hospital," said Henry, his stare piercing, as he nervously paced back and forth in the hospital's waiting room. They had been there for close to an hour as the doctors were trying to figure out what was wrong with their son. "Not only was he a breach, and almost died when you were giving birth, now he has something wrong with his heart."_

_He was fine last night, and the doula did a great job handling the breach." She responded, too frightened and tired to argue with her husband. _

_"But she didn't listen to his heart, that is what any decent medical doctor would have done. If you had given birth to him in a hospital, they wouldn't have sent him home in the first place. I should never have let this happen. _

_"We are in a hospital now Henry," is all she had the energy to say in response._

"Yes, I know that Maddie, but if it were up to you, we would be seeing the medicine man? Right?"

"Just stop it Henry, we have already been through enough."

A nurse walked out, "Mr. and Mrs. Spencer, the doctor is ready to see you."

_They walked into the hospital's newly built NICU, and saw their son, who just looked so small and fragile. His eyes closed, and he had a breathing tube sticking out of his mouth connecting to a ventilator. It almost seemed like there were more machines than baby. His tiny hands had huge IVs threaded through them. His chest was covered in wires for all kinds of different monitors._

"I'm Doctor Walker," the man, who could not have been older than thirty extended his hand for a handshake. He directed them to the chairs, and instructed them to sit down, "Your son is having what is known as a hypercyanotic spell, due to not getting enough oxygen."

"Why isn't he getting enough oxygen?" asked Maddie.

The doctor paused, "Shawn has a very tough road ahead for him, he what is known Tetrology of Fallot a congenital heart defect comprising of four abnormalities of the heart. The operation he needs isn't done at this hospital, so first thing tomorrow we are going to transfer him to Children's Hospital of Los Angeles.

"Don't give me medical jargon, tell me exactly what is wrong with my son, and why he needs to be transferred and operated on," demanded Henry.

The doctor took out a model of the human heart, and pointed to the lower part of the heart, "there is a hole between the right and left ventricles. He then pointed to a valve above the right ventricle, this is the valve which pumps blood out to his lungs. With your son's disorder the valve isn't strong enough to pump blood into his lungs. This causes the right ventricle to work harder than it should and be bigger than normal. He then pointed to the area above the left ventricle, his aorta, which is supposed to be above the left ventricle, is instead above the hole in his heart.

Right now he needs to have a shunting procedure, switching the aorta and the pulmonary artery that way he should be able to get more oxygen. They are going to do that shortly after he is transferred.

At about six months old, the hole in his heart is going to need to be patched and we will reverse the shunting procedure. When he is older, his pulmonary valve is going to be completely replaced in another open heart procedure.

Maddie seemed to be in shock, as tears rolled down her face as she processed the information.

"What are his chances?" asked Henry, his tone somber.

"He should be fine after the shunting procedure, but that isn't to say it isn't without significant risk with each operation."

_ Henry sat and buried his face in his hands, he hated to show emotion, but after learning this? His baby needed at least two heart operations. How was he going to cope? How were they going to cope? How would they explain this to their families? Take time off from work when their son was sick? Find a place to stay as their son was being operated on, in a town away from their homes?_

_"We'll get through this Maddie," he said as he hugged his wife, "Shawn is a fighter."_

_"I hope he is," she replied._


	4. Chapter 4

The EMTs or were they paramedics? He never quite learned the difference between them, seemed to be on auto pilot. He was probably one of many heart patients they had transported that day, most likely the only one under forty, but still just another heart patient. He still couldn't believe that this was happening to him. After all these years symptom free he was now in an ambulance having problems with his heart which were so bad that they needed to shock him.

As they rolled to the hospital, even though he wasn't really psychic he could predict what they would be doing. It had been so long. Things had changed, but the more things changed, the more they stayed exactly the same as they were when he was a child. First would be an echocardiogram, which was going to find something wrong. Afterwards, there would be the inevitable trip to the cardiac catheterization lab.

They found him a parking spot in the emergency room and drew the curtain around him. A friendly nurse, or was it nurse practitioner, came with a notepad. Her hair was a fake color of auburn, her face round and pleasant. From the name tag on her peach colored scrubs he could see that her name was Amy.

"Hi Amy," he took off his oxygen mask to greet her.

"Is there anything we should know about in your medical history?" She said glancing at the scar on his chest.

Shawn was silent for about ten seconds, as he thought up an answer.

"Something like Pentology of Wolf," he smiled. "Had operations when I was a baby and when I was seven. Was supposed to be back for another one when I was older but things were fine and I didn't need it."

"When did you start feeling sick?" she asked.

"All week. I've been kind of tired but the past few days have just knocked me on my ass. Two nights ago, on my way home from a wedding I hit my head in a car accident which just made things worse. Didn't help that I may have been run over by a semi, and that a chick stabbed me." He leaned forward so that the healing wound on his back from where Elin stabbed him could be seen.

She made a note in her chart, "We'll have someone look at your head and back, just in case. But, judging by what happened in the ambulance and your medical history, the issue here is most likely your heart." She said then took some type of rubbery thing and tied it around his forearm, "We need to get a blood sample." She then looked for a good vein. Just when she found one and was about to stick the needle in, Shawn abruptly turned his head away, closed his eyes and squeezed his nose. He had seen on an episode of _Empty Nest_ back in the day that if you close your eyes, and squeeze your nose as tightly as possible, blood tests and injections didn't hurt. While he knew that probably wasn't true, concentrating on squeezing his nose as tightly as possible lessened the sting. Once she got the sample, she walked off.

Five minutes later, another woman came by with a sonogram machine for an echocardiogram, a procedure in which they get a picture of the heart using sound waves to see what is going on.

"Mr. Spencer, the gel will feel cold but it won't sting," The woman said as she spread gel across his chest. It felt cold but not at all painful. In fact, part of him wished that it was Jules doing it. He glanced at the black and white screen, but could make no sense of the images on it. They reminded him of on TV when numerous pregnant women got sonograms. Those were always such happy moments, seeing a baby for the first time with its little heartbeat.

"Is girl or a boy? Will I get to be just like Arnold Schwarzenegger in _Junior_? Will Danny DeVito help me?" He asked, attempting to insert a tiny bit of humor into the situation. The woman smiled, as she continued to focus on what she was doing. He could tell that things were probably not too good based on her expression.

As soon as she was finished, he laid back and closed his eyes. He wished he were here with Jules, the sonogram being on her belly to find out what gender little Starfish Spencer would be.

His heart was kind of like the San Andreas Fault; something bad was due to happen and should have happened years ago, but there was nothing he could do about it. When he last was examined for this at age seventeen, the examination that was supposed to lead to open heart surgery number three, the cardiologist said that things were fine. He didn't need more open heart surgery at that point, which had been a reprieve. He had twenty years of freedom not having to worry about this.

After the echocardiogram was finished, he was left alone once again, waiting for what was next. The cath lab.

The thought of being in a catheterization lab scared him. He still had nightmares about that room from when he was young. Having tubes threaded through his neck into his heart was always intimidating. _It would be fun to have them do it again._ He tried to tell himself. _It isn't every day that you see a live shot of what is going inside of you._ Perhaps he could record it and put it onto You Tube? Find some way of using it to torture Lassie?

The more he thought about the impending test, the faster his heart began to beat, and the quicker the beeping of the monitor next to him sounded. Before he knew it, he was surrounded by more doctors and nurses. He heard one of them saying something about "he is going into v-tac," before everything went black.

* * *

As Henry walked into the now familiar hospital ER waiting area, he found Gus and Chief Vick.

He looked Gus in the eye, "What happened?"

"He stayed at my place last night, and this morning I had a lot of trouble waking him. When I took him to work the first thing he did was lay down on the couch to go back to sleep. I went to see a few doctors on my route when I got back he was still asleep. We were supposed to go to Juliet's to pick up some of his stuff when she wasn't home. I went to get him his shoes and I noticed that his ankles were swollen. He tried to get up, and passed out."

"I should have realized something was off the other day when-" he paused. He almost said something about how Shawn revealed to Juliet that he wasn't psychic, but Chief Vick was in the room. "…he was investigating the case the other day, the Swedish girl. He seemed tired and off his game. He said he hit his head in a car, and said that they checked him out when he was staying in the hospital with her. A bump on the head usually doesn't make a person that tired. If they did and they let him leave they're getting their asses sued off."

"When I asked him if they had really checked him out, he implied they hadn't." Gus responded in a reassuring tone. It was hard enough handling Shawn after Henry was shot in the chest. Somehow he had a bad feeling that handling Henry when Shawn was sick was going to be worse. Even though this was no one's fault, Henry was the type of person who needed a punching bag and liked to find someone to blame.

Chief Vick excused herself to answer her cell phone. As soon as she left, a physician's assistant walked out. "Family of Shawn Spencer?" she asked.

Henry and Gus walked over, "I'm his father, what is going on?" He said as he walked up and gave him a folder containing his medical history.

"Your son is having problems with his heart. When he was initially taken in in the ambulance, his heart wasn't beating fast enough, and his oxygen saturation levels were low. Following cardioversion in the ambulance his heart rate returned to normal. His oxygen sats got better after he was given an oxygen mask."

"What's a cardioversion?" Henry asked.

"They used an electric device which is kind of like an external pacemaker," explained the PA. "Shortly after he arrived we were able to get an echocardiogram, but afterwards he had a setback and went into ventricular tachycardia. We had to defibrillate him a second time. He is stable now and on anti-arrhythmia drugs."

"We are going to have to call in a cardiologist. Usually in someone your son's age, we call in the adult cardiologist. However, considering your son's history, and the fact that his problems are most likely due to a congenital heart defect I called in Dr. Walker. He is pediatric cardiologist."

"Him? Is he the only one? I can't believe he is still in practice," responded Henry, who seemed nervous and unhappy about something. "He is a coward."

"Is there anyone else?" Asked Gus nervously.

"No one else who is on call." the PA responded.

"Is Pooja Singh on staff here?"

"Yes but she isn't on call today."

Gus quickly got out his work cell phone. Dr. Singh had recently moved into Santa Barbara after residency in San Francisco, with a number of prominent doctors in pediatric cardiology. Her specialty was children, and adults with congenital heart defects, something he never really thought of until now. He hoped she would want to take this case, if she didn't she would be getting fewer free samples of fine Central Coast Pharmaceuticals products.

Dr. Singh's office," Maria, Dr. Singh's office manager answered the phone.

"It's Burton Guster, your Central Coast rep, it is a personal issue, is Dr. Singh around?"

"She isn't here, but I can page her, what is going on?"

"An emergency with a friend, I need her to call me as soon as possible." He left both the numbers for his business phone, and his personal phone.

As soon as he finished the call, he walked over to Henry, "I left a message with Dr. Singh, she should be calling me back." He was a bit relieved that he had given her his personal phone, number because the reception in the ER on his business phone was down to one bar.

Henry was now at Shawn's bedside. Shawn still looked weak and tired. His eyes were half open, and was now wearing a hospital gown. An oxygen mask was still on his face, and an IV was in his wrist.

Shawn removed his oxygen mask and looked at his father, "Ah Dad, you're the Shirley MacLaine to my Debra Winger, the Sally Field to my Julia Roberts." Shawn said thinking of the films _Terms of Endearment_ and _Steel Magnolias_, infamous chick flicks all of them had been forced to watch at various times in his life.

"Shut up kid," replied Henry, a hint of relief in his voice. At least his boy had not lost his sense of humor.

"Now I have to think about which Magnolia Gus will be? Or is he Debra Winger's cool friend who moves to New York? Nah, Gus is Dolly Parton, Lassie gets to be Shirley MacLaine, and that leaves Buzz to be Daryl Hannah. Jules gets to be Dylan McDermott."

"Dolly Parton? That's insulting Shawn. If you are going to cast me as Truvy from _Steel Magnolias_ it should be Jill Scott. You know from the Lifetime version."

"When did you start watching Lifetime? You aren't in their target demographic?"

"I watch them when I want moving drama." he responded.

"I haven't been causing you enough stress. You have to watch Lifetime? I'm insulted, and can I have some red velvet armadillo cupcakes?"

Just then Gus' phone rang. It was Dr. Singh, and he walked away in order to speak to her.

"I got your call, what is the problem?" Gus remembered that Dr. Singh's bedside manner wasn't the greatest. While she was able to work miracles in the operating room, socializing with her, and carrying on a conversation with her were always difficult. She never quite knew how to correctly relate to people.

"A friend of mine is having heart issues. He had some type of a heart defect when he was born, and earlier today he passed out due to problems with arrhythmias."

"I'm supposed to be making rounds later. I'll come by and have a look at the case. I should be there in about an hour."


	5. Chapter 5

Juliet sat in the car as Lassiter pulled into the station three hours later than they had intended to. It had been a long day with two cases to investigate, and she'd turned her phone off. She told Lassiter it was so that she wouldn't be distracted, but truthfully it was so that she would not have to deal with Shawn calling about something annoying. If Shawn needed to call them the call would go through her partner. 

She spent the entire day expecting that at some inappropriate time Shawn would pop up out of the blue with some stupid excuse to see her. When he did, he would beg for her to take him back proclaiming his undying love. Perhaps it would be when they were at the museum investing the disappearance of Polynesian artifacts? She was mortified as to what Shawn and Gus were going to pull there. Would they mess up some exhibit? They had a bad habit of doing that in museums and historical places. Maybe they would turn up when she was at the Meitner School for Gifted Students investigating who had shot the new headmaster? So far though, Shawn had been good today leaving her alone, giving her some much needed space.

Right now he should have been at her house packing up his stuff, but knowing him he probably wasn't. She expected he would be coming by later tonight while she was home, so that he would have a reason to visit and not leave.

She was still angry that he had lied to her for so long. Deep in down, she knew that he wasn't really psychic and was faking, but she hated the way he wouldn't admit that to her. She understood why he would be afraid to tell her after she broke up with Declan and the issues with her father, but still, he could have and should have come clean when their relationship started getting more serious. He kept up the lie when they slept together, and even when they moved in together. He didn't seem to understand that she was hurt because he was lying. It made it worse that he never intended to sit her down and tell her the truth. In fact he still seemed to regret giving her his jacket, which was just sad and pathetic.

She walked into the station and, to her relief, it was Shawn free. She greeted Buzz McNab who was at his desk. There was something off about his expression. "What is it Buzz?"

"How is Shawn doing? Is everything okay?" asked the officer.

"Um," she paused, why was he asking about Shawn? Was something wrong? Or even more likely had he pulled another stupid stunt? Did he manage to get himself hurt doing it? Did he do it in order to get her attention?

Before he had a chance to respond Chief Vick called her and Lassiter into her office. She was apprehensive about what she would want to see them for. Had she done something wrong?

"Sit down O'Hara." said Chief Vick. Juliet recognized the tone in her voice, it was the one she used when she needed to tell someone bad news which worried her.

"What is going on?" She asked nervously , hoping that she wasn't being reprimanded for something. There was nothing she could think of offhand that would have the Chief giving her a talk.

"I just got back from the hospital," The Chief paused, "Shawn is having heart problems and had to be taken to the Emergency Room. Henry and Gus are there with him right now."

"Oh my God," gasped Juliet. "What happened?" her face conveying an expression of shock.

He passed out in the Psych office. Gus called 911, I went to help out. When I got there Gus was agitated while EMS took care of Shawn. I ended up driving Gus to the ER where he met Henry. They were getting ready to admit him when I had to leave."

She suddenly remembered the scar on Shawn's chest. The one he always told her was from a fire when he was a child. Apparently he wasn't being truthful about it either, but did it matter? He was in the hospital because of heart problems. He was about anything that required him to take off his shirt because of the scar. By the way he was obsessive about it, she had a feeling there as more to the story than what he told her. Even on trips to a nice spa, he dragged his feet, or more accurately kept socks on his feet when they were going to the pool.

She took out her cell phone and attempted to dial Gus, but the call went straight to voice mail. She tried to call him again and there was no answer.

"Gus isn't answering, I hope it isn't because something bad is happening?" She said, her tone getting more and more nervous. She felt Lassiter's re-assuring hand on her shoulder.

"Knowing Guster, he probably went to get a corn dog. I'm sure Spencer is going to be just fine. Its probably nothing, like the time he thought he was poisoned. Spencer always likes to play up illnesses to get attention."

Juliet hoped he was right.

A minute later Juliet's cell phone rang.

It was Gus "Juliet, sorry I missed your call." His tone was somewhat hushed.

"Chief Vick told me what happened."

"Yeah, they had to shock him twice because of irregular heartbeats, and now they have him on anti arrhythmia drugs which seemed to have knocked him out. We're waiting in the ER for a cardiology consult and he is taking a nap."

"I'll go and get some of his stuff, then meet you there. Keep me posted on what's happening"

"Will do," responded Gus as she hung up her phone.

"I need to go back to my place," she said as she rushed out of the chief's office towards her desk quickly gathering up whatever she needed to take home.

"I'll take you," said Lassiter. "Right now you're too much of a nervous wreck to be driving properly."

Just as they were exiting, they were met by Woody the pathologist.

"Hey, I heard about Shawn." He put a comforting hand on Juliet's shoulder, "I'll keep Henry and his ex in my thoughts. If they need me I'll be around. I'm always good at getting to the bottom of mysterious heart ailments.

His comments only elicited glances of pure anger from both Lassiter and Juliet who ignored him as they walked out of the station.

As soon as they left Woody turned to Buzz McNabb, "I should have been a bit more sensitive."

If Gus had not called 911 chances are Shawn would have been his "patient." One of the things he always hated doing was playing find the heart defect, after a young, healthy person collapsed due to sudden cardiac arrest. Removing a person's heart then dissecting it to find the minor defect that caused the person's untimely demise was boring and difficult compared to determining how a person had been murdered. But there was the case of the seventeen year old track star who dropped dead after a race. It was up to him to find out whether it was hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, or poisoned Gatorade. It had been hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, something that athletes should have been screened for.

He had always been curious to know the story with Shawn Spencer, ever since noticing the scar on his chest. It was most likely from a midline sternectomy, when they saw the sternum open for open heart surgery.

He asked Buzz, "Do you know if he plans to donate his body to science?"

"Not sure" responded Buzz who was shifting uncomfortably, not sure how to respond to such an abrupt and inappropriate question.

"If he does, can you ask Henry for a huge favor, I would like to have Shawn's heart and brain? Shawn's brain will be on display in my office in a huge jar of formaldehyde. There will be a tag for all to see saying that it is the brain of the great Shawn Spencer. It might also fetch a lot on eBay or Amazon. Shawn's heart would be perfect for my collection of deformed hearts."

"I'll.. uh see what I can do?" Buzz answered quickly before making a hasty retreat from the disturbing conversation.

"Huh." He shrugged, watched the large police officer slink away,then headed back to the morgue. He walked over to his latest patient, "I hope Buzz wasn't going to ask for himself. Never thought he would be into that kind of thing, he doesn't seem like the type, but you never know." He made an incision into her chest. "I really did want his heart for my collection. Defective hearts like that are hard to come upon. I would be willing to let him have the brain if he really wants it."


	6. Chapter 6

They all hated the waiting game. Shawn slept as Henry and Gus sat patiently. It had been an hour since Gus had called Dr. Singh and Chief Vick had gone back to the station to take care of police business. The ER had informed them that Shawn would be admitted to the cardiology unit as soon as a room became available. Gus excused himself, he was hungry and he needed to run to the hospital cafeteria to pick up some things for dinner.

As soon as Gus was gone Shawn began to stir. A short woman in her early forties with dark eyes, and long dark hair tied back in a simple ponytail walked over to them. Shawn looked at her, and put his hands to his temples, "Let me guess you are Dr. Singh."

The doctor smiled, and extended her hand for a handshake, "He didn't tell me you were the patient, but I think I know who you are, Shawn Spencer, the psychic detective right?"

"You are correct." responded Shawn, he glanced at his father "And this is my father Henry." Henry extended his hand for a handshake.

She looked at Shawn, "I've heard so much about you in the papers, and in the news. It is always exciting when Burton comes to my office with tales of what the two of you have been up to."

Dr. Singh continued changing the subject. "I'll be looking over your echocardiogram, electrocardiogram and medical history which will give me an idea of what is going on." She left them waiting.

Fifteen minutes later Dr. Singh returned, the expression on her face rather serious and somber in comparison to the friendly one from when she introduced herself.

Shawn smiled, "Good news or bad news?"

She didn't answer the question immediately, which can only mean not so great news, "I've looked over your tests, and there are two major issues you should be aware of. The first, and most important issue right now is the irregular heartbeat. There are electrical impulses that cause the heart to expand and contract. Those impulses follow a very specific pathway, similar to the way the wires in your house control the lights. When someone has had congenital heart defects repaired, it leaves scar tissue in the heart. Scar tissue often interferes with the paths the electrical impulses of the heart are supposed to take, causing the heart to beat irregularly. To fix this, we are going to have to put in either a pacemaker, or more likely an implantable cardiac defibrillator."

"Intercontinental ballistic missile? What is that?" asked Shawn, his tone nervous yet curious.

She chuckled at Shawn's mispronounciation, "A pacemaker only corrects irregular heart rhythms but it can't shock the heart in case it stops beating. An implantable cardiac defibrillator does essentially the same thing as a pacemaker, but it can also give shocks to the heart in case it stops. I want to see how you do over the next two days in the hospital before I decide what will be best. I can't make the final decision before I see results of a cardiac MRI, cardiac catheterization, stress test, and tilt table test, as well as see how you respond to the drugs we give you.

"Great, I'm going to be stuck here for the next few days." Shawn said, rolling his eyes. "And what type of surgery do they use to put it in?"

"It's relatively simple, and done under conscious sedation in the cardiac catheterization lab. They cut a pocket for the device, and then string the electrodes through a vein to your heart. The procedure to put either and ICD or a pacemaker in is the same. It isn't difficult or risky."

"So more fun in the cath lab," replied Shawn. Hopefully he wouldn't remember the experience. Conscious sedation meant being kind of awake, but drugged and out of it the entire time, when all was done, everything was forgotten.

The doctor continued, "The other major issue we need to discuss is that your pulmonary valve needs to be replaced. We saw in the echocardiogram that your right ventricle is enlarged, and your oxygen saturation levels are low. This is because the pulmonary valve isn't functioning correctly. The valve pumps blood out from the lower right ventricle to the lungs. Right now blood is leaking back into the ventricle instead of going to the lungs and because if this you aren't getting enough oxygen. The right ventricle has also started to enlarge due to the increased amount of blood, and the increased amount of work it has to do to pump the extra blood out. "

"So this means he needs another open heart surgery?" Henry asked, a tone of dread in his voice.

"Most likely in this case, we will go with an open procedure. We don't have to do it now, though. You might want to get a second opinion on it, but it does need to be done within the next few months."

Henry nodded, attempting to maintain his emotionless facade as he processed the information. "What are you going to do to replace his valve?"

"In someone Shawn's age it is best to use a mechanical valve. We could put in a tissue valve, but those only last ten to fifteen years then another open heart surgery is required to replace them. We want to minimize surgical intervention as much as possible so it isn't advisable.

With a mechanical valve, there are issues to be aware of. It can cause small blood clots which can lead to strokes. Because of this, after the operation he is going to have to be on anti-coagulant medication. "

"Also known as rat poison Yay!" Shawn answered sarcastically. He remembered the doctors telling him about this the last time around, when he was supposed to have this surgery as a teenager. The ingredient in blood thinners, waferin, was the same stuff they used in rat poison. Rats ate it, bumped into something then bleed to death. When humans took it they had to be careful not to do anything that could cause injury, because they would bleed to death like the unfortunate rats. Not having to be on that stuff made him appreciate his Norton and his active lifestyle even more because he knew that someday he would be a human water balloon. That someday was now in the not to distant future.

"And what happens to me between now and the surgery? Will I be able to do anything?" Shawn asked.

"Before the valve replacement surgery, and after you leave the hospital, your level of functioning will be somewhat decreased. The ICD will prevent you from having arrhythmias, but things like exercising and activities that require a lot of walking will become increasingly difficult."

Shawn took a deep breath as he let the news sink in. He wasn't going to be leaving this hospital all healed and fixed and as good as he was before. Instead he would be leaving a cyborg, not getting better until he relived the most traumatic thing he had ever experienced. One thing was for certain, his days of chasing bad guys all around crime scenes were probably over. And about Jules? Why would she still want him? It was bad enough that to her he was nothing more than a worthless a liar, but now not only was he that, he was a liar who was stuck in an old man's body. She was gorgeous and physically fit? He was damaged goods. She could easily get someone who wasn't damaged goods. Maybe there was no reason to be all that worried? Was there a point going on if she wasn't going to be taking him back?

Heck was there a point in going on being part cyborg, part Baby Feels So Real Doll? He remembered the fragile dolls filled with goo that the girls used to have when he was a camp counselor . Those things had to be handled carefully or else they would "bleed" with the clear goo inside them leaking out everywhere. In retrospect he regretted laughing at the Great Dolly Car Wreck of 1992, when two boys used one of those dolls as a crash test dummy. They had stolen one, put it on the back of a large, remote control car, then raced the it down the steepest hill they could find. The doll went splat, leaking mysterious, scary ooze all over the scene. Back then he never imagined he could end up being just like the poor doll.

Shawn's serious expression changed in an attempt at humor. He looked at the doctor and asked, "Will I be able to get around? Or is it time to call the Scooter Store and order the Rascal I've always wanted? Those things look like such fun! After I get out of the hospital, will I still be able to use a microwave, or will I have to heat up Chinese food in the stove? Heck, will I still be able to eat normal Chinese food, or will I be stuck with the steamed sauce on the side crap?"

She smiled, entertained by Shawn's humorous antics, which were an obvious method of coping with distressing news. Everyone had their coping mechanisms, and humor was always a good one. "You'll be able to get around, but slower than what you are used to, and will probably tire more easily and require more sleep."

She continued, "Microwaves should be safe, but after this you are going to have to be careful with airport security. You'll have a card that you will need to identify yourself and will You are also going to have to use caution with cell phones, try not to keep it on within six inches from the site. There is a chance that the device could mistake the cell phone signals for a irregular heart beat."

"So no keeping an iPhone in a jacket or vest pocket or I'll be electrocuted?"  
The doctor shook her head. "Not electrocuted, the device might just initiate the wrong heartbeat."

"Hey Dad, if I can't go up a flight of steps, can we get one of those chair lift things installed at home? Like the one in Gremlins, where they get that old lady." Shawn asked.

"Not on my dime," Henry snapped back.

Just then a group of orderlies came, off to take Shawn for a cardiac MRI followed by a trip to the catheterization lab. Afterwords he would have to lie on his back for the standard two to six hours. It would give him plenty of time to process the totally awesome news of the day.

As he was being wheeled out Shawn looked at his father, "This is going to suck." The expression on his face sad and depressed.

The only response Henry could think of was a fist bump. "I'll see you later."

As soon as Shawn was gone, and no one was looking Henry kicked a wall in frustration, this wasn't fair. He would once again have to be the strong parent and watch his poor kid suffer. Yes, Shawn had always been a fighter, but preparing and training for fights was hard. Then the actual fight was always the hardest.

What could he have done to prevent this? With all of his powers of observation, he felt so guilty that he didn't notice that something was seriously wrong with his own son.

After all he and Maddie went through when Shawn was a child, he should have done something to ensure that this didn't happen. Shawn owed it to himself, and both of his parents to keep on top of his health. But then again Shawn was immature, irresponsible, afraid of doctors, and what they might find. He was incapable of planning ahead for his future, only keeping track of the now.

He wondered what he could have done to make sure his son had followed up with a cardiologist as he desperately needed to do? Would threatening to take him off his car insurance unless he saw a doctor had helped? Threatening not to pay his cell phone bill?

Shawn had been so tired the day he came over and told him about what happened with Juliet. Instead of yelling at him for telling Juliet that he wasn't Psychic,he should have driven him to the emergency room and made sure that damn bump on his head looked at. But right now there was there was nothing he could do, but sit back and worry. What happened to Shawn now was between Shawn and the big man in the sky. 


End file.
